The Candle
by Glitch Smokeside
Summary: It's a dark life he leads. And the only one he wishes he could share it with is unaware of everything. His feelings, his crimes.. yet, he can't pull away. Sometimes he even forgets there is such a thing as light. But just when he feels he's about to be smothered, he sees the small flickering flame of his little, angry candle.


Ah, this was it. Karkat sighed contently, the usual stress and anger gone from his face. Vacation was the shit. Well, this wasn't really a vacation. Just a long fucking weekend, but he treated it like one anyway. And besides, he'd already called everyone he knew to tell them he was 'going out of town for a few days', just to make sure no stupid dumbasses came a-knocking to mess up his much needed alone time.

Knock knock.

" Are you fucking kidding me?" Karkat swore under his breath.

Karkat looked from the television screen to the door at the sound of the sharp rapping. He didn't want to sit up, much less go and answer the fucking door. Then he remembered he left it open. The person on the other side was either a salesperson, which he doubted because it was almost fucking midnight, or the one person he didn't lie about being out of town to. Either way, he didn't want to get up.

The mystery person knocked again, more urgently. Nope, he was definitely not moving.

" It's open, fuckass!" He shouted, settling back into the couch cushions and sighing.

He heard the door quickly open and shut, and the sound of rubber soles stepping on the kitchen's linoleum floor.

" Karbro?" The clown called out, clearly trying to locate him.

" Couch, giggleshit." He answered.

The footsteps approached, and Karkat turned to look at his morail, ready to give him a fucking lecture on visiting hours and shit. When he saw him though, he instantly sprang off the couch, rant forgotten.

The clown stood on long, wobbly legs, his hands wrapped around his middle. His hair was a mess and his breathing came in heavy, slow pants. His face paint was smeared and his skin, where it was showing, looked pale and sweaty. Indigo blood seeped out from where he clutched his stomach.

" Karbro, I motherfucking need your help."

Karkat smacked him on the head, hard. " NO SHIT, DUMBASS." And pulled him quickly down the hall and into the bathroom. He pushed him onto the toilet, and got out the first aid kit, his hands a little shaky and his mind racing.

This wasn't the first time Gamzee had come to him in this condition. The motherfucker just couldn't help getting into fights. When he didn't have his meds, or he ran out of weed, or both, he just became restless. Anything could set him off. His anxiety went through the roof, and he couldn't keep still, and he couldn't calm down. His energy had to have some outlet, which usually ended up being sex or fights. More often than not, he got into fights. It mostly happened when he tried to pick up a girl from some club, and her boyfriend cut in. To give the fucker credit, he always at least tried to calm himself through sex, before calming himself through fights.

This guy must've been carrying a weapon. Karkat silently hoped it was a blade, not a gun.

" You know," Karkat began, indicating for Gamzee to lift his arms," No matter how many times shit like this happens, it never ceases to freak me the fuck out."

Gamzee giggled. He unwrapped his hands from his stomach, and let Karkat slid his bloodied shirt off over his head, hissing slightly at the pain the movement caused.

Karkat hissed through his teeth when he saw the cut. It was awful, and the blood was going everywhere. Karkat picked up a sterile cloth, and wetted it, before laying it over the wound, and pressing his body weight onto it.

" You better start explaining nookwhiff." He snapped angrily.

Gamzee gave him a half hearted smile. " Sorry, bro. It just happened."

" Bullshit."

Gamzee's smile faded as his breathing calmed. " Yeah, I know."

Karkat sighed and rolled his eyes, checking the blood flow before he again put his weight on his hands. " You have to remember to pick up your prescription, Gam. This can't keep happening." Karkat's red black eyes bore heavily into his morail's indigo ones. " One wrong move on the wrong person and you could end up locked away." Karkat checked the blood, and deciding it slowed enough to wrap up, he removed the cloth.

He worked quickly. He cleaned the wound with sterile pads and alcohol, making Gamzee hiss and grind his teeth. He sprayed it with antiseptic and told Gamzee to stand up so he could wrap the bandages around his chest. Then he turned his attention back to his clearly still unmedicated morail.

" Come one, giggleshit." Karkat led him back into the living room and told him to wait on the couch. Meanwhile, he grabbed his car keys and his jacket. He went into his room and started rummaging through his draws for the little baggie he always kept for emergencies like this when he felt two arms wrap around his waist.

" I'm sorry, Karbro." Gamzee whispered. He pressed his face into Karkat's neck and tightened his arms. " I'm sorry."

Karkat reached his arm upwards to stroke Gamzee's soft locks. " If you're going to be sorry, don't do it in the first place." He meant to chide him, but it came out soft mumble instead.

He turned around to face Gamzee, and held up the baggie, and inside were a small pack of rolling papers and some weed. " Here. Smoke it. I'm running out to get your meds."

Gamzee unwrapped his hands from Karkat's waist and took the baggie, his face showed his surprise.

" Bro, where'd you all up and get this? You don't smoke."

" I bought it dumbass. Just in case something like this were to happen." Karkat rolled his eyes and started walking to the front door, pulling on his jacket as he went. Gamzee followed. " You'd better be fucking grateful too."

He went to open the door, when Gamzee pulled him back again into a tight hug against his chest. " Thanks, bro." He kissed the soft flesh of his neck.

Karkat sighed fondly at the idiot's show of affection, and pushed him off him. " Yeah, yeah, fuckass. I'll see you in a bit. Smoke better be clear from here when I get back though."

Karkat left and locked the door behind him. He made his way to the elevator, down to ground level and then into the parking lot. The nearest 24/7 pharmacy was at least five miles away.

Karkat thought about his morail as he drove. Gamzee and he had been morails for forever. They were just, he didn't know, _right _for each other. It would be strange to think of anyone else in that quadrant. Thought it was kinda weird, what with how different they were and shit. Fuck, even excluding personalities, they were completely different. Gamzee was around 6'3" and Karkat was a shrimp at 5'2". Adding to his height, Gamzee was pretty. He had black locks of hair and dark tan skin. He had tons of ear piercings and tattoos on his arms, chest and back. His face had the traditional beauty of high cheekbones and a strong jawline. He was very good looking, very chill, and a good person.

_Everything I'm not._ Karkat scowled. He was bad tempered, short and perfectly average. He had dark brown hair and eyes, and nothing remarkable about him apart from his rather intense vocabulary. He sighed, pulling into the pharmacy's parking lot.

_Opposites attract, I guess_.

...

Gamzee sat on the couch, half a joint already makings its sweet way to his brain. He relished the peace the THC brought with it. The calm, the quiet. The need to destroy, and the unbound, replenishable energy the pulsated through his body began to wind down, released with every puff of smoke to leave his lungs. Soon, he was able to think a bit more rationally.

_Whoa there, Gamzee. Almost lost control there, motherfucker. You got to be more careful. Especially around Karbro. _

Gamzee pulled out his cellphone and logged into his pesterchum.

terminallyCapricious [TC] started pestering adiosToreador

TC: bRo I aLmOsT fUcKeD uP bIg.

AT: wHAT DO YOU MEAN?

TC: My PiLlS. i AlMoSt KiLlEd A gUy.

AT: }:( yOU,,, uH,, dIDN'T THOUGH, rIGHT?

TC: No, I lEfT bEfOrE hE gOt Up In My SpAcE bUbBlE aNd ToOk A oNe WaY tIcKeT tO sHiTvIlLe.

AT: }:) tHAT'S,, uH, gOOD THEN,,,,

AT: yOU NEED A PLACE TO CRASH?

TC: i'M hItTiNg ThE hAy At KaRbRo'S tOnIgHt.

AT: oH, oK,,

TC: YoU kNoW wHaT tHaT mOtHeRfUcKeR aLl Up AnD dId FoR mE?

AT: nO,, wHAT?

TC: cUtE aS sHiT mOtHeRfUcKeR gOt Me A bAg.

AT: rEALLY? THAT'S, uH,, kINDA FUNNY,,

AT: hAHA

TC: AiN't It ThE cUtEsT lItTlE tHiNg? MoThErFuCkInG wEnT oUt AnD bOuGhT sOmE rEaLlY bAd StUfF tOo.

AT: yOU STILL, uH,, gONNA SMOKE IT?

TC: EvErY lAsT lEaF.

TC: WoUlD bE rUdE nOt To AfTeR i BeT hE rAn ArOuNd NoT kNoWiNg WhErE tO bUy It Or WhAt To AsK fOr.

TC: jUsT iMaGiNe ThE mOtHeRfUcKeR rUnNiNg ArOuNd AlL fLuStErEd TrYiNg To BuY gRaSs.

TC: CuTe As AlL fUcK.

AT: wOW, gAMZ,, yOU GOT IT REAL BAD FOR, uH,, 'kARBRO', dON'T YA?

AT: };)

TC: Up To My MoThErFuCkInG eArS bRo

AT: hAHA

TC: HoNk HoNk :o)

terminallyCapricious [TC] ceased pestering adiosToreador

Gamzee smiled, smoking the last of the blunt and putting the lit end out on the bottom of his shoe. Talking to his best friend always calmed him down, and the sweet buzz in his skull wasn't too bad either. Now that he was calm and dry, he realized how much he hurt. His whole body felt bruised, and he was sure his knife wound was bleeding again.

He was the luckiest fuck he knew. He totally deserved all this mess on his body after harassing that lady. Not really harassing, though. He'd been backing off for good after his failed attempts at flirting and annoying her for a few minutes. He'd been walking away when the big hairy guy came over and started hassling him. He'd even told the guy to walk away, not that he'd listened. He hoped the guy was okay now. A chair over the head had to have hurt. He was sorry.

Gamzee sat in a stupor, thinking of how lucky he was to get away from that fight like he did. If it had gone on, and it would've because when he was sober he never walked away, Gamzee would've gotten much more hurt. And the other guy.. Gamzee was thankful the fight ended when it did, when those bouncers pulled him away, and he overheard someone calling the cops, and he'd run. The fight wasn't technically his fault, but who knew how the justice system worked these days.

He was lucky to have Karkat. Lucky there was someone who tolerated his bullshit. He even went so far as to stumble around trying to get him weed cuz he knew it calmed him down.

How'd he ever get so lucky, he'd never know.

_Karkat_.. he tasted the word silently, mulling it over like sweet wine as he lit up a fresh one and took a long drag.

_Karkat_..


End file.
